


Doesn't show signs of stopping

by musicforswimming



Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Cold Weather, F/F, Sledding, Snow and Ice, Weather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-19
Updated: 2009-12-19
Packaged: 2017-10-04 16:07:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicforswimming/pseuds/musicforswimming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the first time for both of them. Sledding, anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Doesn't show signs of stopping

**Author's Note:**

  * For [austen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/austen/gifts).



> Off a prompt from [austen](http://austen.livejournal.com): "Buffy/Fred, sledding".

"I've never done this before," Fred said, and both of them had to laugh at that, especially when Buffy agreed that yeah, it was her first time, too. Neither of them was inclined to pass up a good innuendo when she heard it.

But it turned out that sledding was -- well, kind of awesome. Fred was left blinking and panting at the bottom of the hill after the first time, her face read and her breath coming hard, like she wasn't exactly sure what to do with this, like she needed a second to put something together, maybe. But for Buffy, the speed and the wind and the sheer _thrill_ were all intoxicating, and she was already climbing back up the hill just moments after they'd stopped. If she hadn't waded through knee-deep snow before, well, the ease she did it with now was just another perk of Slayer adaptability, right?

"You coming?" she called over her shoulder when she was halfway back up the hill -- it was a monster, too, but Buffy has never been one to do things halfway. Fred starts a little, and even from this distance Buffy could see her smile, start making her own way up the hill, her bright red hat the only color in the silvery gray of the day (the sun hasn't shown up at all, not even the shape of it; it's one of those days where you just take it for granted that it must be behind the clouds _somewhere_). For a second, Buffy considered -- but no, not yet.

After another few rounds, though, she did it, swept Fred up and threw her over her shoulder, dragging the sled with her free hand. It didn't work as well with both of them being about the same height, especially since the snow was so deep that Fred's hat had gathered up a lot of it when they got to the top of the hell. Fred whacked Buffy when she finally put her down, but she was still giggling way too hard to speak, and just as Buffy was thinking that she was too pretty for words, Fred threw her arms around her and kissed her.

It was warm, then, not just the not-really-comfortable-but-I'm-having-enough-fun-to-make-up-for-it of the whole thing thus far; it was, like, actually warm. She slid her own hand -- she'd managed to shed her gloves for the moment -- under Fred's hat, against the damp mess of her hair, messily braided and sweat-dampened beneath the yarn, curled her fingers in her hair and tightened just enough to hear her give a little whimpery sigh.

"Not bad, as first times go," Buffy murmured, and felt Fred's mouth curl into a smile against her own, which only stoked the fire starting to flare up cozily in her gut. There was a little of that same thrill, now, and maybe she's still a little drunk on the chill and wind and speed of the last ride, or maybe she's not drunk on chill at all this time.

"Not at all," Fred agreed, and Buffy kissed her this time, her mouth warm even as the wind picked up and flung more flakes against them.

Okay, so, if pressed, she'd have to admit that she lost track of where the metaphor ended awhile ago.


End file.
